I just want his long legs around me.
The magazine I worked for was having a charity ball for children living with sickle cell and he came to represent one of the sponsors that Tuesday morning. He was dressed smartly in a cobalt blue suit and burgundy glasses but before I noticed what he looked like, all I could focus on where his endless legs. Laolu stood at 6’4 and had a scar around his right eye. I found that sexy for some reason.
I’m going to fuck him.
At the ball he came looking for me and we connected immediately. The conversation was great and the sexual tension was heavy in the air. His voice was hoarse in that rough, sexy way that made me want to devour him. As his lips moved, I grew restless, wondering when the hell he was going to kiss me. It didn’t happen; not that night at least.
We had such a great time getting to know each other, that when I found out he was married, I didn’t care. I had fucked married women and men in the past. The key was not to get emotionally involved and I was the queen of thorough yet detached fucking. In retrospect, he did seem a little surprised that I wasn’t any less interested. When he broke the news to me, he was a little downcast like he thought it would be our last night together but he clearly knew nothing about me.
The first time Laolu and I fucked, it was in his car. Thankfully, he had considered his long legs when picking a car. After having kissed a couple of times, my next step was to sit on his dick. I whipped out a Trojan because I always carry a condom. I saw the bulge in his pants and I lost it. I had been through a healthy number of dicks in my twenty-seven years of existence and I knew immediately that he wouldn’t fit. I was only half wrong. It took a while but we finally made it work.
The sex was awful.
It was so so so bad. I lost my mind erection almost as fast as I got it. Here was a grown ass 44 year old man with an excellent fairy-tale penis who didn’t know what to do with it. He clearly had a good time but I was waiting to climb off him. I had already started picturing that thousands of other things I could have been doing instead of having this man thrust away so aimlessly.
Back at home, I kept trying to rationalize how a man who had been sexually active for more than half his life was so shitty at sex. His wife was obviously fucking someone else because if that’s what she was dealing with…. Damn. I was inclined to pack up and go because I was only interested in the dick anyway, but I reconsidered.
Adama, do you really want to give up the most beautiful dick you’ve ever seen just because it doesn’t work?
I didn’t. I was determined to fix him.
Several tries later, the sex remained flat and boring. My final effort was to plan a weekend for the sole purpose of sexy time. My girlfriends didn’t think the effort made any sense and, frankly, neither did I. He had gotten several orgasms thanks to me; I was going to get mine one way or another.
We got a really nice hotel in Calabar. He brought wine, we sat in the Jacuzzi and talked and laughed. I knew what Laolu’s body liked, how he liked it and the first night, I planned to show him how to make me scream and gasp for air, and especially helped him find the thin line between pleasure and pain. He learnt incredibly fast and there seemed to be hope after all. We didn’t leave till Sunday night. Our intention was to leave enough time to make it into work on Monday. That didn’t happen.
We spent all weekend smoking, drinking and fucking. Laolu took to my lessons like a willing student, eager to please. On Sunday afternoon, we went at it again until the intensity of our love making weighed me down and fucked up my knees. I could neither walk nor move. It hurt so bad that I had to go to a hospital and ended up with a knee brace.
Laolu and I kept at it for months, and I can’t mention how many times I ended up in the hospital from sex injuries. In fact we had to stop going to the hospital I was registered at because it was becoming a little suspect. I had several bruises and teeth marks, hurting joints and so on. Till this day, I am proud of each and every one of those injuries because they proved that my efforts were successful. I had brought out the beast in this man and I loved the sweet pain of it.
Unfortunately, as they say, good things just don’t seem to last.
Things began to go south during the last week of January. He came over to my apartment and made me dinner, so I decided to give him a nice treat. I sat him on the couch and went on my knees, but the look of panic in his eyes confused me. I tried to ignore it and got to work on the best blowjob I could offer, but he stopped me 30 seconds later. He looked incredibly uncomfortable so I asked what was wrong. Apparently, he only let his wife suck his dick. That certainly ruined the mood. When he left, I was grateful to see him go.
Laolu and I didn’t talk for several days afterwards, only for him to show up at my door at 11pm on Valentine’s day. I expected him to be with his wife but, apparently, she was out of town. He stood there in silence for about a minute.
“Ada, I want you to suck my dick.”
I should have seen this as a warning sig, but I was too eager to oblige. Then, later that night, after our romps of passion, he said the words I didn’t want to hear. He loved me. I pretended not to hear him and went to sleep.
That wasn’t going to be the end of it. After a short nap, he nuzzled my neck until I woke up and told me he was leaving his wife. Shit.
WHY did he have to go and fuck it all up by declaring this unnecessary love? The sex was phenomenal and, till today, no one has knocked me out of my senses like Laolu did. I wasn’t looking for love. I was an ambitious woman in her late twenties, working in a fast-paced work environment, who needed the best stress reliever a girl could ask for – steady delicious dick. And I had that. Until Laolu went ahead to shit all over it.
“No. You don’t love me.”
“Yes, I do Ada,”
“I don’t think you are listening to me; you CANNOT love me,”
“Why do you think you’re so unlovable?”
“Don’t be dramatic. We’ve been fucking for 10 months and you want to leave your wife?” I laughed. “I’m not looking to be your next wife, Laolu. I told you in the beginning that this wasn’t a relationship; it’s just sex.”
“So you’re telling me you feel nothing for me?”
“Olaoluwa, I feel nothing for you and you know it. If you’re going to ruin this, I think you should leave.”
He didn’t respond so I sent him to sleep on the couch. In the morning as I was preparing for work, I couldn’t resist the chance to have one last taste. I knew Laolu and I were done. Our last run was FANTASTIC. It almost brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it.
Laolu called for months, sent messages, sent gifts to my office, and even showed up at my house but I was done. Now, every Valentine’s day, I am reminded of this tragic loss – the awful season when the best dick I have ever had walked out of my life. Fucking feelings ruin everything.
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